


This

by Davys_dead



Category: Carry On - Fandom
Genre: Fluff, Fluff and Angst, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-13
Updated: 2018-03-13
Packaged: 2019-03-31 02:12:52
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,993
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13965135
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Davys_dead/pseuds/Davys_dead
Summary: Simon Snow is done having Baz Pitch for a roommate. It’s just too much. Everything is too much.





	This

**Author's Note:**

> Hey y’all. First post here. This was initially a chaptered fic but I wanted to post it all together here. Sorry for the awkward word placement, still learning the editing process on this website...Hope ya like it. My tumblr is davys-dead.
> 
> Edit: fixed the formatting. Thank you kind comment people :)

**Simon**

“Please, Sir. I’ll still keep tabs on him I just. I can’t live with him anymore.”

  
The Mage looks at me like he’s disappointed. And it hurts, “The crucible is a powerful object, Simon. Baz is and will be your roommate until your Watford school days are over. I told you before I would not move either of you and my decision still stands,” he gives me a stern look, “Now. I recommend you get to the dining hall before dinner is over.

  
“Ok. I’m sorry I asked again,” I stand and try not to look like I’m sulking as I walk away but my head won’t stay up and my shoulders stay slumped.

  
I was really trying this time. Having Baz as a roommate for the last six years has been… last year I followed him everywhere. I followed him until I knew what he was. For sure this time. Now, I can’t handle him being so close in our room. It makes my skin feel prickly, Like he’s some telepathic cactus. That doesn’t even make sense, but it’s the only way I can think to describe it.

-

Penny gives me a look when I sit down next to her, my plate piled high with food. Just because I’m angry, sad, I don’t know, it doesn’t mean my appetite’s suffered, “Where've you been, then?”

  
“Hello to you too, Penny.”

  
She rolls her eyes, “Oh please, Simon.”

  
I sigh and rub my hand over my eyes. I’m getting a headache and I can feel my magic pushing up, I try to force it back down. It doesn’t work, “The Mage still won’t let me switch roommates.”

  
“Did you really think he would?”

  
“I was willing to try.”

  
“You look so dejected. Like a kicked puppy.”

  
“I feel like a kicked puppy.”

  
“Do you want to study and whinge about it with me in the library?”

  
“I’d rather just go to sleep early.Thank you though, Pen,” I stand up and she pats my arm as I walk away.

-

Baz, the git, is already in our room when I get there. This is not what I wanted. At all, “Do you always have to be exactly where I don’t want you?”

  
He has the nerve to raise an eyebrow. I can see it on his profile. He’s lying down and he’s holding a book over his head, trying to read, “I think it’d be rather hard to avoid the places you don’t want me to be, Snow. I’d assume that every place is a place you don’t want me to be.”

  
I sigh. Because he’s right. Just knowing that he’s somewhere near with his vampire hair and teeth and, well, everything else. I flop down on my bed because at the moment I am too tired to be prepared for an attack. Too tired to care, “Can we just, be quiet?”

  
“It was quiet before you walked in.”

  
“Good. let’s go back to that.”

-

“Open your books, children,” Miss Possibelf says. I’ve stopped trying to feel indignant when she calls us children now. It’s no use telling her how close were are to being adults. Legally, at least.

  
I open my book to the page she’s told us to go to but I just stare at it and my eyes go blurry when I look around the page. I give up and just stare at the top sentence.

  
Baz, who’s sitting next to me because I have the rottenest luck, gives a little snort. I mean, kind of like a snort if a snort could be posh sounding, “You know, you actually have to read the page to answer the questions in the test, Snow.”

  
I ignore him which I’ve never actually done before. I realize it feels good. I decide to keep doing that.

-

“Jesus, Snow would you stop moping about the room?”

  
“I’m not moping. I’m thinking.”

  
“Well, that’s a first.”

  
“Oh shut up,” I say. He does.

**Baz**

I think I might’ve hit the switch. I pressed the right button or pulled the right lever, because Snow hasn’t accused me of plotting or followed me or any of the other things he does in weeks. I can’t decide if I like it or not.

“All right. What’s wrong?”

  
Snow looks at me with his droopy eyes and his open mouth, “What?”

  
“I can’t stand you being so angsty. You’re acting like a pissy teenager.”

  
“I’m pretty sure I am a teenager, Baz.”

  
“It doesn’t suit you. You acted like a child before.”

  
“Is that a good thing?”

  
“It’s better than this. This is depressing, and I haven’t had a fight with you in weeks. My body’s itching like I’m going cold turkey on recreational drugs.”

  
“‘Recreational drugs?’”

  
“Don’t sass me.”

  
“Crowley, you're like an old man.”

  
I decide to ignore that, “What’s wrong, Snow?”

  
He pulls his fingers through his curls until they get caught and he tugs on the clumps, “I just… I can’t...”

  
“Use your words, Snow,” he growls at me. It hits my stomach in a way that’s not quite pleasant but also really, really is. I fight the urge to walk over to him. Where he is, not quite three feet away from me in the space between our beds. And then I stop fighting it. And I’m next to him. And his warmth, his smell, is intoxicating, “What’s wrong?” I ask for the third time. It comes out small, a whisper.

  
“I don’t know,” he pauses, “I just. I…” he stops talking and I think he’s going to leave. And I think I’m a little afraid. Because I’ve never seen him like this. I’ve never seen him look so sad.

  
“Simon,” I say, and then I stop because I don’t know what to say after that. I know what I want to say. I want to say that I love him. That he’s what I think about almost all of the time. Like he’s this weight on my brain. Not a bad weight. No. He’s like the weight of all the blankets I sleep under because he leaves all of the windows open. I want to say that whatever he’s feeling, whatever he’s thinking, He can tell me. And I’ll keep him safe. I’ll keep him here. With me. In my arms. I want to say all of that. I want to say all of that and so much more.

  
So I do.

  
And then he’s staring at me with saucer shaped eyes. And I’m staring back at him. Waiting for the bomb to drop. Waiting for him to pull out his wand and spell me into oblivion or pull out his sword and cut me to pieces. He steps towards me, and I think I might flinch, but I don’t step back. And he takes another step, and another. And then he’s right in front of me and he smells like soap and sweat and magic.

  
He takes one step closer, and he wraps his arms around my middle, and he holds us there with his face pressed into my neck. And I’m grabbing him back. And I’m holding him close. And, right now, this is all I need. All I need is Simon Snow holding onto me for dear life, like he’s never going to let go. All I need is this moment. All I need is this. This. This.

**Simon**

He’s steady. He's an anchor. And Crowley knows how much I needed this. I’m not too proud to admit I’ve been falling apart. Every second up ‘till a minute ago had felt like an eternity. But… but now I just...I can feel it all changing. I can feel the world shifting and moving, plates and magma beneath my feet.

“Simon,” Baz let’s out my name in a breath, “What are you doing?”  
I’m confused at first, terrified I’ve misconstrued something or fucked something up. But I lift my head out of the crook of his neck, and I can see the earth. The entire earth. But not in a concrete way. I can’t see China or Australia or even England, but I can _see_ it. Like a ghost, like the world in a movie.

My arms tighten around Baz as it fades, the mirage pulling back into myself like it was a manifestation of my magick. Of magick itself, “I… I uh… didn’t mean to do that.”

Baz’s voice is quiet, “The hug or that other thing?”

“Both I guess,” I can almost hear him deflate, “But I...I don’t wish they didn’t happen,” He looks into my eyes and his are the meaning of grey.

“I meant every word. I love you, Simon Snow.” His words are forceful, but they don’t punch. It’s a meaningful caress of noise.

My eyes bore back into his as I say, “I thought you were ruining my life,” he starts to pull away, “Wait,” I say, just as forceful as him, “I thought you were ruining my life but, I think you were saving it. I think you _are_ saving it everyday.

“During the summer, I try not to think about the good things. I don’t think about Penny or Watford or anything that comes with it. But, Baz, it’s _impossible_ not to think about you,” he pulls me closer still. Inches to centimeters to nothing, “So I spend everyday for three months stewing over you, and I had myself convinced it was ok because I didn’t think you were a good thing. And it kept me alive.”

“What do you mean,” He whispers.

I lift my hand so it’s cupping his cheek, “It gets so lonely. Even if the house I’m staying in is full to bursting it’s still so utterly, devastatingly lonely. And on top of that I try to keep my head empty, to forget about the things that make me happy,” I run my thumb along his lower lip, “But I could never get you out of my head. Thinking about you… It gave me something to do. And looking back at it, a lot of the thoughts I had weren’t as antagonistic as I wanted them to be,” Because sometimes, all I could think about was his hair. Or his cheekbones. Or the way he laughs with Dev and Niall when he thinks no one is looking, “And you took me over,” His hand reaches up to touch my face just like I’m touching his, “And I don’t know if that’s love,” I say, “But, Crowley, it feels like it is.”

Baz’s lips are warm when they touch mine. He grabs on to the tops of my ears to keep me close, and my hands fist in his hair. And it’s everything I wanted it to be.

**Baz**

Simon Snow is going to be the death of me. I’ve just heard him talk more than I ever have and every damn word was like a kiss. But kissing words aren’t the same as the real thing.

I’ve never done this, but the only place my hands can seem to find purchase are the tops of his ears and I’ve never seen that before in the Disney movies Mordelia watches but I don’t care because Simon doesn’t seem to mind. He pushing into me with everything he is, Magick and all. And I’m pushing back. And it’s so… it’s...Simon must be rubbing off on me because I’m at a loss for words.  
He pulls back too soon, but it’s worth it to see his face. He’s still the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. And when he smiles… it’s like the whole world blows apart.

  
“I love you, Simon Snow,” his smile grows wider, “Aleister Crowley, I’ve loved you for years.”

  
He looks up at me (thank Crowley for our height difference because it kills me) and runs his hand through my hair. And as my eyes flutter closed to his touch, I can hear him whisper, “Me too.”


End file.
